


Stolen

by Airyckah



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-05-01 01:50:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5187608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Airyckah/pseuds/Airyckah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione and Sirius have been dancing around each other for quite some time now - and everyone is tired of the tension and denial. It’s time to face each other. HGSB, Post War fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stolen

**Author's Note:**

> By: Airyckah  
> Rating: M  
> Summary: Hermione and Sirius have been dancing around each other for quite some time now - and everyone is tired of the tension and denial. It’s time to face each other. HGSB, Post War fluff.  
> Music: Stolen – Dashboard Confessional.
> 
> Thank you so much to chrisalyscence for her amazing beta skills; so much appreciation for her! Also, it has been a long time since I have written a little oneshot. I worked really hard with this once, and I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

**Part I – She belonged to one man alone.**

HER NAME WAS Hermione Jane Granger. She was a muggleborn witch. She was clever, powerful, and talented. Anyone who knew her would say the same.

Over time, she had blossomed from the bushy-haired know-it-all that had entered Hogwart’s School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to a beautiful creature at twenty. Long, chocolate tamed curls that cascaded down her shoulders. Deep, knowing eyes, the colour of honey – warm and inviting. She was tall – tall enough to be a model, with long legs and generous curves.

And two things were certain about her.

The first was that she was a mischievous character. Her eyes said it all. She enjoyed trouble - something that hadn’t changed since her years at school.

Secondly, she belonged to one man, and one man alone. It wasn’t Ron, like many had expected to happen. No – Ron was too immature, too boyish for her. She had always preferred older and more mature men.

She belonged to Sirius Black.

Every morning, afternoon, evening, and night, Hermione Granger belonged to Sirius Black. And in return, he was only hers.

-

HIS NAME WAS Sirius Orion Black. He was a pureblood wizard. He was sharp, dexterous, and very unpredictable. Anyone who knew him would say that over the years he had changed. He wasn’t the same playboy that he had been in his younger years – there wasn’t a different girl every night, there was only one. He wasn’t flirtatious, unless it was to that one girl.

Even his appearance had changed. He had gone from the leather-clad, mysterious bad boy to the haggard Azkaban escapee slash ex con, and finally to the clean cut, rich, well dressed, privileged wizard he had become. With his tall, lean body decorated with tattoos, his defined face, always with just enough stubble on it to make him look mature, and his quirky smirk, he had been, England’s most eligible wizard for a while.

But with him as well, two things were certain about him.

The first was that he, just like Hermione, was a very mischievous character. He had been, after all, a part of the most infamous pranking and trouble-making quartet in Hogwart’s history.

Secondly, he belonged to one woman, and one woman alone. He wasn’t the playboy he had once been. He had matured – a lot – and had realised that he wanted more than a long string of one night stands. He wanted a strong and mature woman he could love forever – and still have a great time in bed with.

He belonged to Hermione Granger.

Every morning, afternoon, evening, and night, Sirius Black belonged to Hermione Granger. And in return, she was only his.

\---

**Part II – “She’s a goddess.”**

HERMIONE WALKED INTO the celebration party in quite a sour mood. She was tired of stupid Ministry parties; “victory” parties, and anything that had to do with any kind of “party”. But she told herself she had to go – for Harry.

Since the end of the war, and even before, they lost many people. Ron had been one; Tonks, Fred, Neville, among others. The loss of their best friend had brought Harry and Hermione closer, and Hermione knew that she had to be there him. The public appearances were hard for him, but with Hermione, Ginny, and Sirius supporting him it was easier.

“Good evening, Miss Granger.” Hermione turned upon hearing her name. Sirius stood behind her, dressed in all black save for a red tie, and she smiled to greet him. “You look great tonight, Hermione.”

“Thank you, Sirius,” she said, running her hands down the sides of her black dress. It was formfitting, and flowed past her hips. The spaghetti straps complemented her bony shoulders, her skin looking like milk under the dark colour. “You’re looking well, yourself.”

He offered her an extra champagne flute that he was carrying, and moved in beside her. He leaned against the wall, his eyes glued to her over his own glass as he took a small sip of the drink.

Hermione’s eyes were scanning the room, and she paused when she finally saw Harry and Ginny. The two were conversing with the Minister, and Harry had an arm wrapped softly around Ginny’s waist.

“They’re so perfect,” she breathed, and Sirius barely heard her, even with his canine hearing.

“They do fit each other nicely. There must be some sort of genetic disposition to redheads,” he laughed. “Harry’s grandmother was red-haired as well.”

“Where’s your girl, Sirius? I thought you were trying out the dating game.”

“Tried. But I am currently too distracted.” He watched as she turned back to him, lifting her glass to her lips. He knew what she was going to say before she even did. “Remus is fine. That’s not it. Remus is a big boy, Hermione, we can’t be taking care of him all the time – he needs his own time, alone, to recover and grieve.”

Hermione nodded once, her honey eyes meeting his silver orbs. “I know. I just... worry about Teddy sometimes.”

“Teddy is fine as well. Do you ever worry about yourself?”

Hermione laughed. It was light, but slightly strained. “I don’t need to worry about myself.”

She took a sip from the champagne flute she held, her eyes scanning the crowd once more. She gave a short wave to someone that Sirius couldn’t see – his attention was still firmly set on Hermione – and she quickly pushed herself away from the wall she was leaning back on. She gently placed her hand on his arm, giving him a kind farewell.

“I’ll talk to you later, Sirius,” she breathed, walking away gracefully.

Sirius watched her walk away – the gentle sway of her hips, her leg that peaked out of the slit in the skirt of the dress, and the way her hair fell down her back. She was a genius in the art of seduction – and Sirius doubted that she even realised that she was. Over the years, Sirius had learned many things about her – she had the most interesting personality he had ever had the privilege of meeting.

Hermione Granger was many things. She could be one of the shyest creatures one had ever met, or one of the most outgoing. She was mischievous, sneaky, and most clever. She was witty, and the smartest person Sirius had ever been acquainted with. She was also the sexiest woman he’d ever laid eyes on. But she acted so innocently, carrying an air of naivety that gave the impression of her ignorance of the fact. In truth, that was her own illusion – she was well aware of the way men saw her, and on occasion she used it to her advantage.

“Hermione! It’s good to see you!”

Hermione was greeted by Remus Lupin as she approached where he was standing, on the edge of the dance floor. They each leaned into the other with a warm, friendly hug, and Hermione left a small kiss on Remus’s cheek. The two looked as comfortable with each other as the oldest of friends. As they shared their greetings, they leaned into each other slightly – Remus’s hand placed gently on Hermione’s hip, and Hermione’s on Remus’s arm. They looked extremely comfortable with each other.

But even Sirius had to admit, Remus was looking particularly handsome tonight. His blonde curls were swept back from running his hands through his hair. He wore a black suit -a nice change from his usually shabby attire - with a white dress shirt, and thin black tie. For a moment, Sirius even felt a wave of jealousy as he watched the pair’s interaction.

The two were flawless together. Their bodies reacted so naturally in their movements together, they looked like a couple that was rarely apart. If Sirius didn’t know better, he could’ve been fooled into believing that the two had had an affair.

He was incorrect to believe otherwise, though; not long after Tonks’s death and Hermione’s breakup with Ron, the two had found comfort in each other’s arms and remained close friends.

One other thought that came to Sirius’s mind was that maybe Remus and Hermione were better suited for each other, for they certainly rivalled each other on an intellectual level. Not to say that Sirius wasn’t a smart man – on the contrary, he was quite astute. Just in an entirely different way from his childhood friend.

“Hermione, have you met Maya Kinley? She’s going to be joining us on the Hogwarts’ staff this fall, filling the Transfiguration position.”

Since Minerva McGonagall had moved to the position of Headmistress, the Transfiguration position at Hogwarts had become rather infamous – McGonagall had never found anyone that she felt lived up to the position. As a result, every year the job was rehired for.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Ms Kinley!” greeted Hermione, shaking hands with the woman. Maya Kinley could be no older than 30 - she was most likely leaving the school when Hermione herself started. “Minerva actually mentioned you – she has a lot of hope that you’ll be sufficient in the field!”

“She told me that Maya was ‘simply prodigious’,” offered Remus.

Kinley laughed. “Well, I hope that I can live up to the expectations.” The three continued to converse, and all the while Remus and Hermione continued to look flawless.

“She’s stunning, isn’t she?”

Sirius jumped, surprised to hear someone speaking to him, and turned around to find Harry leaning towards him.

“Who?” he feigned ignorance.

Harry shot his godfather an amused smirk. “You know exactly who.”

Sirius couldn’t help it – he tore his eyes from Harry, glancing back at Hermione and Remus, and another pang of jealousy shot through him again. In that moment, he downed the rest of his champagne, just as a server happened by with a tray. He set the empty flute on the girl’s tray in exchange for a full one, and Harry followed his lead, taking his own glass.

“She’s a goddess,” he finally admitted, to which Harry smirked again.

“I knew you’d agree..” He took a sip from his new glass, with one hand tucked away in his pocket.  “What I don’t get is why neither of you can buck up and make a move.”

As if on cue, Hermione glanced back at Sirius and Harry from where she was standing with Remus. Sirius met her gaze, and she quickly looked away, turning her attention back to Remus, who leaned closer to her, whispering something in her ear that made her blush.

Sirius forced a smile at his godson. “Look at her, Harry. She’s young, and talented enough that the whole word is at her fingertips! She could do anything she wanted, have anything she wanted... have anyone she wanted. Why would she want to ever be with an old man like me? At least Remus is her intellectual rival.”

Harry chuckled. “You really don’t get it, Sirius. That has nothing to do with it – because you just can’t help who you love.”

\---

“YOU LOOK AMAZING tonight, Hermione.” Hermione turned to Remus, shaking her head slightly. It was an impulsive reaction when he said this to turn her attention to Sirius, wondering if he had thought the same. She felt Remus’s soft voice against her ear. “There’s no way he doesn’t notice it as well.”

Hermione could feel her cheeks start to burn and knew she was blushing. She hated it when she blushed. It made her feel like she a child again - like some little girl realising that men have bodies that make people feel things by embarrassingly staring at her best friend’s godfather. But she wasn’t child anymore, and he wasn’t just her best friend’s godfather; he was also a man that she had spent the better portion of her adult life living with.

They had stepped away from the crowd for the time being, as Remus gently led Hermione outside into the fresh air with a hand on the small of her back. It was yet another one of their comfortable gestures that had people sharing knowing grins. The cool air made Hermione breathe deep, relishing the nighttime sounds of the city. She reached into her small, black lace clutch, pulling out a pack of cigarettes as she turned to Remus.

“I love the sound of the city,” she told him as he leaned over, lighting her cigarette before turning to his own. “I can’t stand the quiet anymore. I think it’s from all those nights out in the wild with Harry and Ron - danger around every corner. I remember sitting outside the tent on watch while Ron and Harry slept, and it was like every little sound made me jump in fear that we had been found. I can’t stand the quiet anymore.” She took a long drag from her cigarette, her chocolate eyes meeting his amber ones. “‘Absolute silence leads to sadness. It is the image of death.’”

Remus smiled. “Rousseau.”

Hermione nodded. “I don’t think I will ever be able to not live in a city again.”

Remus drew from his cigarette, one hand in his pocket as he looked at her. “You’ll find your way back to calmness, Hermione. And when you do, you’ll relish the quiet again. It’s an adjustment - the life you have been living for all these years was not a simple one, not an easy one.”

Hermione looked back at him, taking in a man who had lost nearly everything in the world. His friends, his wife… he was a man that had no reason to the look to future with hope, besides the child tucked into his bed at his grandmother’s that night. She smiled as she was flooded with memories of the two of them, who had so eagerly sought companionship with each other; Remus Lupin standing outside in a suit smoking cigarettes was such a nostalgic sight for her.

There was a voice in the back of her head scolding her. It wasn’t a small voice; it was the same voice that was behind her reasonable and logical thinking. And it was honestly scolding her for looking at Remus in such a way again.

Don’t do that, it told her. You’re just lying to yourself. You are trying to distract yourself with someone comfortable. You can’t do that to yourself or him.

It was a reasonable argument, as that voice always offered, and so Hermione felt compelled to comply. So when she felt Remus’s hand on her arm, and realised he was slowly leaning towards her, on impulse she pressed her hand against his chest to stop him.

He laughed when she did this. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised,” he told her, pulling away. She expected there to be disappointment in his eyes when she looked at him, but instead there was only amusement. “Truth is, everyone knows that you and Sirius have been dancing around each other for months.”

Hermione forced a smile, shaking her head. She obviously knew that Remus was aware of her attraction to his best friend, he had made comments about it to her before, but the insinuation of the newest comment was that Sirius reciprocated the feelings. She supposed that Remus of all people would be the most aware of Sirius’s thoughts, but in her opinion a man as fearless and experienced as Sirius would have said something of his own volition a long time ago. So she shook her head, keeping her obviously forced smile.

Remus recognised the look on her face almost immediately. “Oh, come on, Hermione. We all know you’re not a naive woman. You cannot tell me you are surprised to any of that.” he chucked.

“I just…” she sighed. “I just find it hard to believe. This is Sirius bloody Black we’re talking about, Remus.” She put out her cigarette with the ball of her black heels. “It’s - whatever. I’m leaving,” she told him, still shaking her head. “I need to go home.”

Remus was shaking his head now, a knowing grin spread wide across his face. “I’ll take you.”

\---

**Part III – “You stole my heart.”**

HERMIONE SAT AT the kitchen table, a book in one hand, and a lit cigarette in the other. She heard the front door open, but didn’t check to see who it was. In moments, however, Harry and Ginny were both standing at the doorway.

“I thought you quit,” commented Harry, nodding in the direction of the smoke.

Hermione shook her head. “Lied.” She was still wearing her party dress, her feet curled under her on the chair.

“You left rather suddenly.”

Hermione nodded. “Remus offered to make sure I got home okay. But I needed some time alone.”

Harry whispered something to Ginny, and gave her a small kiss on the cheek, and the Weasley girl nodded before heading up the stairs of Grimmauld Place. Harry walked over to where Hermione was sitting, leaned back on the table behind him, and perched himself on the ledge.

“What happened?” he inquired, but Hermione just shook her head.

“Just leave it, Harry.”

“You know, when Sirius came back, I thought I was the single happiest person on the planet. But then I realised something, as time passed.” He smiled down at his best friend. “He didn’t come back for me, Hermione. It’s high time you both realised you need to stop being lame-asses and admit your feelings for each other.”

“Dammit Harry,” Hermione cursed. “I don’t really think either of us want to be talking to you about this.”

Harry shook his head at his friend. “Well I didn’t think that I would ever need to sit down and have this conversation with you in the first place!” he shot back. “Neither of you are stupid as you’re acting - avoiding each other like the bloody plague and dancing around each other when you find yourselves in each other’s presence.” He stood. “He’ll be along shortly,” he said, before following Ginny’s path upstairs.

He was right; Sirius was not far behind him. When he came into Grimmauld Place, he stopped in the doorway of the kitchen, taking in the sight of Hermione perched in her chair. She gently set the book down on her lap, also looking Sirius up and down. His suit jacket was undone, his necktie untied, but still strung around his neck. He leaned on the doorframe, his silver eyes surveying Hermione carefully. She looked exhausted – not physical exhaustion though, the kind of tired one got from thinking too much.

Her long hair was a beautiful mess, the loose curls falling in all different directions, probably from the way she ran her fingers through it to keep it out of her eyes as she read.

“I talked to Harry,” she said, quietly.

He nodded. “Me too.”

He pulled himself away from the wall, and walked closer to where Hermione was. He took Harry’s spot, leaning on the table.

“Did he have anything interesting to say?” He asked.

Hermione frowned. “I suppose so.”

“He told me that everyone can sense tension between us – and that he definitely thinks it’s the best kind of tension, and that he doesn’t understand why neither of us can make a move on it.” Hermione nodded with a smirk.

“Basically what he relayed to me, as well.” She stood from her chair and stepped over to where Sirius was standing. She reached around him, stamping out her cigarette butt in the ashtray that was on the table behind him. She let her hand gently brush his as it fell back to her side.

In a flash, Sirius lost all control, and pinned Hermione to the wall in three long strides. His body held hers in place, his palms flat on the cool wall on either side of her. He let out a low growl, not angry so much as possessive. He pressed his forehead to hers. When he spoke, his voice was low and deep, rumbling with desire.

“I have prayed to whatever God or Goddess may exist beyond this world that you should fall into my arms. I will have you know, Hermione, that if Harry is correct, if you share an inkling of the feeling that I have for you, should we give into that, and should you let me have you in my grasp, I will never let you go. You stole my heart long ago, Hermione Granger. I want you for my own.”

When he said it, she shivered even though it felt like the words were scorching her. Hermione lifted her hand to Sirius’s face, gently letting her fingers settle onto his cheek. Sirius’s eyes fluttered for a second, relishing in the feel of her skin.

“Trust me, Sirius Black, I have no intentions of ever letting you go.”

Slowly, Sirius leaned down into Hermione, his lips touching hers gently, a light brush. Then all hell broke loose, and each of them lost the last thread of self-control they held. Sirius’s lips crushed down on Hermione’s in a bruising kiss, forcing a soft moan from her lips which was muffled by his. He lifted her, and moved to the side to set her down on the counter.

After a long moment, their frantic coupling was paused. Each broke the surface, gasping as though they had been forced underwater and were hungry for air. The moment barely lasted though, as Sirius took to her neck, his lips like fiendfyre on her skin.

He let his hands fall to her waist, bunching the skirt of her dress around her hips. Hermione turned her head, eyes closed, exposing her neck to Sirius with her own hands trailing down his front, unbuttoning his black dress shirt as she went, until her fingertips felt the cool metal of his belt buckle. Her attention was interrupted though when she felt his teeth gnash at the spot just behind her ear, eliciting a cry that made his cock twitch.

That same moan made him realise, quite suddenly, that he needed friction. He grabbed her by the arse, pulled her closer to the edge of the countertop, and ground his hips into her. He growled into her throat at the feel of her body against his; then his hands were in her hair, her hands were in his hair, their lips met again in a forceful kiss that was all tongue and teeth, moans and growls.

Finally Hermione’s brain made the jump from pure instinct to coherent thought, just as she could feel Sirius’s thumb on the underside of her breast through her dress. She braced her hands on his shoulders, ending the kiss and pushing him just out of lips reach, gasping his name.

“Sirius, please - ”

He groaned, his head dropping to her shoulder and his hips pulling away. “I swear to fucking Merlin, Hermione, I just poured my soul out to you and if you dare take any of what you said back - " His voice was hoarse and brim with a palpable agitation, a contrast to Hermione’s when she spoke again.

“Shut up, Sirius Black!” she scolded. “I was going to tell you I really would prefer there not be a chance of Harry walking in on his Godfather and best friend shagging on the counter, you thick git. Now take me upstairs.”

With a laugh, he lifted her off of the counter, carrying her as far as the stairs before he set her down, letting her make her own way up the stairs. They only made it halfway up before Sirius had her pinned against the wall, though, her pert arse in front of him being too strong of a call. Finally, after Hermione scolded him two more times, they found themselves at the door to his room.

Unable to help himself, he lifted her again, carrying her through the door and ensuring that it clicked shut behind them with his foot. In a swift movement, she was on the bed.

He pulled away, still standing, to take in the sight of Hermione Granger on his bed. She rose to her knees, her pale skin and black dress a contrast to the red silk sheets. Her lips were swollen and red from their fervent kissing, and her hair a wild mane of mussed curls.

Sirius’s shirt was still unbuttoned and the fabric hung down his sides. Beneath Hermione could see the black ink of tattoos that littered his muscled chest. Her eyes ran down his body until she could see the telltale bulge in his dress pants, his excitement evident. She then moved slowly, bunching the black, velvety fabric of her own dress up in her fists and lifting it over her body, over her head.

Then she was kneeling before him in only her thin, black lace knickers. It hadn’t occurred to Sirius before that moment that Hermione hadn’t been wearing a bra under her dress - though the dangerously low back should have been a tip off. He was frozen by the sight of her again; nearly naked, kneeling on his bed. Scars scattered across her milky skin from the war they had fought in, and with languid but deliberate movements, he brought his hand up to her side, running his fingers lightly over the largest scar that ran across her ribs and under her left breast.

It was a scar left behind by a dark curse, and for a moment he forgot where he was, simply happy that whoever had caused Hermione pain was either dead or rotting away in a prison cell. He raised his hand to her breast, running his thumb over her pink nipple that had hardened against the cool night air. Then his lips were on hers again, and the only thought that was in his head was something along the lines of, this witch.

He pressed her back into the welcoming bed, letting her slide his shirt from his arms as she did. And then her hands were on the buckle of his belt and his fingers hooked around the band of the forsaken black fabric that was between him and his ultimate destination.

“Hermione…” he groaned her name, his voice thick and desperate when he felt her small hand wrap around him, burying his face into her neck. He took the lobe of her ear in his teeth, relishing in the feel of her as she pumped him casually. After a moment of appreciation, though, he swatted her hand away.

He trailed his teeth and lips and tongue down; he bit her neck, then licked the spot and kissed it. He gave the same attention to her collarbone, and then he took one of the pebbled nipples into his mouth. She groaned in response, and he almost grinned. His other hand, which had still been palming her other breast, moved slowly down until he could feel the heat and hair of her core.

He slid his fingers into her folds, growling at the wetness he found there.

“Fuck, ‘Mione,” he groaned into her breast. “You’re so wet…”

She had no words to reply with. He ran the pad of his thumb over her clit, and she mewled in response, the sound urging him on. His fingers slid into her, causing her to roll her hips into him, silently begging for more. Then he curled his fingers and -

Hermione hadn’t even realised he had moved, but suddenly his tongue was on that little bundle of nerves and she cried out. She came suddenly, that little ball that had been coiling inside of her finally letting go and washing over her. Her thighs tightened around Sirius’s head as her body jerked, and he chuckled against her, the vibrations only stoking the fire.

When her body finally relaxed, releasing Sirius, he crawled up her body, still chuckling as he kissed a trail back up to her lips. He didn’t leave her much time to recover before catching her lips in another bruising kiss. Hermione could taste herself on his lips and it made her groan his name.

She could feel him at her entrance, slipping into her slick folds. He pushed into her, the intrusion making her gasp his name. He moved slowly, relishing in the way her walls tightened around him. He growled, a low rumble from deep within his throat, a sound that was lost into Hermione as they kissed.

Growing hungry, Hermione began to roll her hips into him again, tired of of his agonisingly slow speed. The action immediately drew a primal reaction from Sirius, who caught her wrists in his hands and pinned them above her head. His movements were becoming nearly frantic: starved and greedy. His free hand reached down between them, finding again that bundle of nerves that made her cry out with a need he had never heard before. When his completion came his entire body tensed and she followed him almost immediately, cursing Merlin and God, and then Sirius himself. He could feel her fluttering around him, milking him, and he groaned as he collapsed onto her.

When their heart rates finally began to fall, he slid out of her which prompted a quiet whine from Hermione, who was disappointed by the emptiness she felt.

“Dammit, witch,” came Sirius’s hoarse voice finally. He rolled away from her, dropping onto his back beside her. “If I had known that’s what I was missing out on I would have professed my heart long ago.”

Hermione giggled, propping her head up on her arm as she moved to lay on her side, staring down on the naked wizard beside her. “Tell me about it.”

\---

HERMIONE WOKE THE next morning cold and tired.  Yawning, she rolled into the warm body beside her, letting her arm fall across him and her head rest against his chest. She wasn’t sure how long she lay like that, happily, before she heard sputtering and tugging on her hair.

“Merlin. As happy as I would be if I were to die right now, suffocating on your hair would be nearly as embarrassing as death by drapery,”  he said, the morning thick in his voice. Hermione turned her head to look up at him, her chin resting on his chest. Her dancing eyes matched her laughter.

“You know, if someone had told me a month ago that I would be laying naked in bed with Sirius Black, I would have thought them mad. As it is, I’m not quite sure I haven’t gone mad myself.” She lifted her hand to his cheek, running it over the day old stubble that had began to appear.

“Trust me, love,” he said, pressing his lips against hers, “You’re not mad. But I’ll tell you what I am, and that is really hungry.”

Hermione grinned. She brought herself up so she was straddling him, her chest pressed against his, her mane of wild and now likely knotted curls brushing against his cheeks. Could already feel him against her, and she rolled her hims into his in response.

“What kind of hungry do you mean?”

They moved slower than the night before, still tired, aching, and sore from the night before. Sirius’s grip was tight on her hips as he guided her movements. It didn’t change the fact that when each of them came, they cried out loudly. When they finished and were covered in a sheen of sweat, their breathing still heaving, Sirius was the first to speak.

“Just so you know, I meant food hungry, not you hungry. But that works too.”

It was only about twenty minutes later that the two were in the kitchen, Sirius cooking in his boxers while Hermione sat at the table with a cigarette in hand. She wasn’t wearing much more: an old T-shirt of Sirius’s and knickers. But when Harry walked in the kitchen, she wasn’t as embarrassed as she might have been even days before.

“Listen,” he said, trying to keep a stern face. The grin was winning. “I know that I egged this all on last night, and that’s why I’m giving you a free pass this once, but next time - put up a bloody Silencing Charm.”

Hermione and Sirius could only look at each other with laughter on their tongues and a twinkle in their eyes.

**Finit**


End file.
